Greyt Spirit. (For Freckles).

The cage that contains you
Holds only your flesh,
Your spirit so buried,
And yet, another test.

Slow, lumbering walk,
Starting gate is in sight,
Your spirit so wounded,
Just one more hot night.

You wait in your box,
They think you've been humbled.
But that's just a disguise,
It's all for the prize.

Hearts pumping!
Crowds yelling!
Bets placed,
It's all set!

Gates burst open!

...then silence...

You're inside your head.

You quiver,
You shake,
You've become
An earthquake!

You break from the gate
And race for the prize,
But it's all just for them,
For their blood-thirsty eyes.

Your feet leave the ground,
You've become a winged hound!
And your spirit and flesh
Now one have become.

The crowds leave your vision,
You become self-possessed,
You remember your purpose
And that you were blessed!

God placed you in temples
To watch over kings,
Your purpose so holy,
Unspoken and grim.

As you race through the mud,
It's not for a rabbit,
It's all for their gain,
It's become just a habit.

Back into your head...
Graceful, proud, full of intent.
The king's realm you watch over,
Ever vigilant.

You're a soldier, a knight,
In armor of flesh.
You've taken arrows, abuse,
And mal-intent.

Yet you guard and protect,
So willing, so strong.
You've forgiven your captors,
Now your heart is raw and torn.

Feet Stop!
You are grounded.
Chest heaving, sweaty...
So tired.

Now it's over.
It is done.
Winners cheering.
Prize was won.

Freckles

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